Schemes
'Gate Town - ' ---- ::Beyond the Shadow Gate in the Shadow District, the very old township of Gate Town straddles the old Palace Road at the very eastern edge of the Shadow Wall. Once a path of broken cobbles and ruined buildings, Palace Road has since been repaired with neatly cut cobbles while the edges are now completely clear of debris. ::Before the raising of the Aegis and the establishment of the Kingdom,trade flowed easily into the realm of Fastheld through this prosperous village. At some point, the town gave way to corruption and became naught but a hovel abandoned except for by the realm's poorest citizens. Since the arrival of the Ravensguard, however, the establishment of order and regeneration of trade have begun. ::As the front line between the security of the Kingdom and the corruption of the Shadow District, the Ravensguard works tirelessly to retain control over one of the few places in the district where Royal Law still holds sway.The town is far from peaceful for newcomers, however, and guards are necessary to escort outsiders through the unyielding streets. ::To the far west and north is notorious urban sprawl of the Fetters where peasants are ruled by thugs and gangs. To the southwest is the town of Halo where houses still stand on the edge of a large abyss. Far to the east, the township of Lightholder can be found. ---- There is a presence of authority here, and the denizens of Gatetown Just Don't Care about the Zahir house guard. For once, Lucius Nepos is not one of them - he's another mercenary, clad in tightly stamped mail cuirass, crusader shield slung over his rucksack. His back is to the The Hangman's Noose's wall. Blackfox comes wandering down the road, looking around like the Wildlander she is, lost and out of place. Gate town. Home of Fastheld's worst - the dregs of a society that lives with walls, tucked in their corner away from the rest of those within the Aegis - and most of those would call that 'good riddance'. There are more people in this old city than in Aegisport - packed in where there are room... but Gate Town at least has that thin veneer of civilization. It is where Fastheld and the lawless innards of its shadow meet, and the Law here is tenuous at best. Better than the rest of the District. Here, the chapel is still charred, but at least an effort's been made to clean it. Services are held. Business goes on, as per usual - Across the street from where Lucius stands is a building, apparently abandoned now from the look (if such a thing can be said of any building here) - bearing the tattered banner of the Silveredge Company, a longsword argent on field sable.. but it has not been maintained, and already one of the windows is broken. THe door looks solidly closed still, however. Lucius Nepos is keeping a very tight watch of the surroundings, and notices Fox wandering around - then again, who DOESN'T notice the lost looking Wildlander ambling around like she's never seen a city before? He lifts two fingers to his lips and lets out a shrill whistle which will probably attract more attention than just hers. "'Ey! Sweetbottom, come 'ere!" He fakes a catcall. Doesn't actually sound very fake, cause the toothy grin he gives after is... convincing. Blackfox turns her head at the sound of the sharp whistle, frowning as she spots the man, "Lucius?" she asks as she approaches, blinking curiously. "Light, woman, I'd sooner slap ye than ya call me that!" Lucius smirks, winking at Fox. "Maybe we get off the street and go fer a little spin around the Noose, hmm?" Another wink. "What?" Fox frowns, clearly confused, "The Noose? I am sorry, but I do not know what it is you are talking about. Did you not ask me to meet you here...?" Lucius Nepos drops the whole act. "C'mon, follow me." He jerks a thumb to the establishment whose wall he's leaning against and moves to enter in the front door. 'Tavern Hall - ' ---- ::Stories of shadows and ill-repute have a habit of hovering about the tavern known as the Hangman's Noose in Gatetown. Some of these go hand-in-hand with the Shadow District, others with the city itself. Others have their roots in drunken gossip and rumor alone - but there are those that actually did happen. Some of them well and truly disturbing. ::Whatever the reason, truth or ale or otherwise, the innkeeper does nothing to dispel them. In fact, he almost seems to *encourage* their growth. There are, after all, those who would visit a tavern just to chase after ghost stories and legends. ::The interior of the tavern is most often dimly lit, just a little yellowish light from soot-stained lanterns and a fire which smolders, but never seems to blaze. Shadows are wont to dance among the rafters supporting the low ceiling, and under tables splintery and graying with age and use. Tattered drapes hang askew over the windows in such a way to suggest that these, too, are nothing more than story-fodder. A straight bar runs along the back wall, chipped in places and stained in others, with just enough space behind it for working. Kegs of brownish, watery ale line the back wall. As if protesting the tread of visitors, the stairs in the corner creak under the weight of would-be trespassers. The morbidly-humored innkeeper will cheerfully tell anyone who asks (and some who don't) how the emaciated body of a starved girl was once found beneath them. Entirely unknown to him, of course. ::The inn lies in wait at the top of those stairs, for any willing to stay the night in a place as deliberately-dismal as this. For the rest? The door leading back out into the alleys and streets of Gate Town is there at the front, looking as like to fall off its hinges as not at the touch of a guest. ---- "So what is your plan?" Blackfox asks, following behind him. "To get some drinks and seduce you in kind, lass." Lucius says, smirking as he goes to the bar and grab a couple of mugs of ale. Whether Fox drinks or not doesn't seem to affect his decision. Blackfox looks more and more confused with each passing moment, "I am not thirsty," she says, still trailing after. "And I..." she shakes her head, "I am not interested in you." Lucius Nepos ignores Blackfox until he takes a seat in a corner of the noisy, boisterous room full of drunken criminals. He puts his shield and ruck down beside him, within sight, and lets his right arm drift under the table, onto the hilt of his short sword. "Light, Fox, it's an act. We're in a den of murderers and thieves, and you look like you're fresh off the Drakespine. Smarten up. Aye, the plan is to investigate that building across the way. Silverede's company headquarters. Well, what used to be it. I don't imagine it'll be much help, since they obviously went underground." His voice is quiet enough so that perked ears will have considerable trouble hearing it. "I have never been here," Fox replies, her voice level matching his, the huntress used to keeping quiet during the hunt at least. "But I will keep quiet and follow your lead. That much I can do." A not-so-obvious Lucius is sitting at a table in the back, talking quietly with the sore-thumb that is Blackfox, the huntress clearly falling into the category of 'one of these things is not like the others.' There is probably a very good reason the door clatters like it does, when it opens. The sound is enough to wake the dead. And more than enough to win a flinch from a black-clad woman-at-arms, who has barely drawn back her cowl when the heavy, scarred wood slams heavily back into place - /BANG!/ - behind her. Brow furrowing, Caprice tears her gaze away, skimming the crowd of eyes now entirely alerted to her presence, and seeming none too happy. She plays it off nevertheless, hitching her quiver of bolts higher upon her shoulder and threading through the maze of tables, boots sticking slightly on the tacky planks underfoot. He's rather dirty, the man who wanders into the noose not long after Caprice. His skin is smudged with soot and dirt, and the dark leather he wears is equally unclean, and at this point, beginning to smell fairly unpleasant, should one take the time to inspect it. Line up, ladies. "Aye. I'm not really sure where to start, truth be told." Lucius says to Fox, frowning. He takes his conincal helm from his head, putting it down on the table next to the ale. "I think perhaps I am more of a hindrance here than a help," Blackfox says quietly, "I do not belong here." Caprice sweeps her cloak from her backside before she has a seat at the bar. She prefers not to summon the barkeep, instead waiting patiently for his inevitable attention. "Mead," she requests quietly, sliding a handful of Imperials across the gritty bar. "Wi' noos, aye, o' Gatetoon." Dirty, smelly Wolfsbane (more so than normal) begins to wander deeper into the tavern. If he takes note of the familiar woman taking a seat at the bar, he doesn't comment, instead wandering towards where Lucius and Blackfox sit. "I think you should just be quiet and follow us. Anyways, it's obvious you're from where you're from. We can just have adopted you from the Wildlands. Not too far off the truth, eh, Fox?" Lucius asks with a bit of a grin, wolfing into that first glass of ale. "Vhramis is supposed to eb joining us. And maybe another..." He and Fox sit at a corner table. He is oblivious to Vhramis meandering over. The bartender takes the coin well enough, with a grunt - "News, girl? Gate Town ne'er changes - the church burned, nae too long back." The man peers at an imperial, then dumps them all into a pouch at his waist. "Streets stay dangerous - ye should be gettin' yerself back to Fastheld, ye should." Blackfox shifts uncomfortably and looks about, watching the approaching ranger, "He is here," she says quietly. From the square meanders an individual, a man of a robust build and dressed in loose, simple clothing of varying shades of green. A sword at his hip, a quiver at the other and a crossbow slung over his shoulder, the sandal'd fellow immediately makes his way toward the bar in a drunken swagger. His demeanor seems unusually cheerful, face reddened slightly with inebriation as he somehow manages to make his way through the tavern without falling into something. "Baaaarkeep!" announces the fellow, in a clearly slurred voice with a rather odd accent, beaming brightly at the fellow as he raps his knuckles on the bartop, supporting himself against the counter. "Tankard o' your strongesht! ... two'd probably be better ..." Wolfsbane wanders past the table with Fox and Lucius, stumbling to the side and bumping roughly into the man's seat, apparently intent on making it rather impossible to not notice him. A grunt of apology is offered, the ranger glancing down at him unblinkingly, before meandering along to claim a seat elsewhere. Lucius Nepos looks up from the now finished mug of ale, the first one, to spot Vhramis's approach. When the man bumps his seat he shoots a (faux) annoyed glance at him, grunting something quiet in response. THen he looks back down at his ale. Reese gives voice to a vague, acknowledging 'mmm' as she downs her first taste of the honey-gold beverage, eyes reflexively lidding. Thumbing a stray droplet from the corner of her mouth, she comments with a flick of hooded blue eyes toward the innkeeper, "Times been strange e'rywhere. Naught in Gatetoon? 'Tis fort'nate, aye." She sets the glass down before her with a soft, precise *clink*, and starts to go for her pouch again. "Ah. Where be m' manners? I fergoot t' tip--" The end of that statement, and any forthcoming tip, never actually see the light of day. Instead, Reese is whirling to stare wide-eyed at the bellowing bear in full-rear, roaring toward the bar. Blackfox just lowers her head, trying to not so much blend in as to appear inconsequential. Vhramis just happens to find a half finished ale. Or mead. Or something in a mug at the table he's at. Taking a sniff of it, he apparently decides it's not entirely unsafe, and takes a sip. Lucius Nepos looks aghast at the sight of a drunken moron walking into the Noose. His eyes narrow at the man, but he doesn't make any moves to do anything about it. Turning to Fox, he says quietly, "In a minute or two, I'm going to put my hand on your arm and make it look like I'm making a pass at you. You're going to pretend you like it and come upstairs. I'll lead you there. Understood?" "If that...aye," Blackfox says, looking more uncomfortable with each passing moment, a rabbit suddenly out in the open surrounded by wolves. "I will follow." Imperials are exchanged and the beaming fellow stares in awe of his newly acquired tankard of ale. Wasting no time, he sees to downing it as swiftly as he can manage. Thumping the empty tankard on the bar moments later with a grand exhale and a laugh, he turns on the heel of his sandal'd feet to move away. "I'll...I'll be back. Gotsh, gotsh to find the pot, eh? Yesh." He thusly moves in the exact opposite direction of his apparent goal, the meandering drunkard setting off. His travels take him by the table occupied by the group of freelanders, before he quite suddenly stops in his tracks and stares ahead with a grave expression. He then promptly collapses face-first into the tavern floor with a thud and a rattle of his equipment. A distinctly unslurred voice comes toward the table, his words clearly enunciated and spoken in a low tone, "I have arrived." After a moment of tasting the mystery drink, Wolfsbane makes a distinctly disgusted face. Rising from the table, he makes his way somewhat hastilly towards the stairs, climbing up them two at a time. Well, Reese has spotted the rangers and the merc, now, her gaze - and many others' - having conveniently been led there by the drunken debaucher. No, she does not get up. No, she does not move to join them. No, she does not do anything at all besides stare outright at Lucius, her aghast countenance asking an impolite question her lips dare not speak. Lucius Nepos gets up from the table as the drunk man falls over by it, grabbing his shield and slinging his ruck over his shoulders. He toes the supposedly passed out man carefully with a pair of worn leather boots. Seeing no real movement, he says in a normal voice, "Ach, bloody drunks in this place. 'e's likely to get a dagger in th'eye, and rightly so." He kneels, saying something much quieter. "Upstairs in five." Once he rises up he makes a disgusted face, spitting a few inches away from Norran. "Shadow's fool." He looks over to Fox, smiling mirthlessly. "Right then love, how's about we go and finish what we started, heh?" A brief chuckle. His eyes catch Caprice's gaze, holding it for a moment longer than ordinary to signifiy 'I see you', most likely. Then he looks back at Fox. Blackfox doesn't bother trying to play act in return, knowing she has no skill for it, simply nodding demurely and takes Lucius' free arm, letting him lead her upstairs. The only response Lucius gets is the sound of a rough snore, the fellow content to remain prostrate as the others begin moving away. Reese blinks once, blinks twice, eyes the mead, sniffs it, and then abruptly sets it down and shoves it out of easy reach. Lucius Nepos heads upstairs without another word. 'Inn - ' ---- ::Maybe the walls are just for show, perhaps some requirement of modern society. Or maybe they're only there to hold up the roof. At best, their only noticeable purpose seems to be privacy. A perpetual draft leaks through cracks in the walls and down through the thatched roof into the inn, and the activities of the tavern below can be seen through cracks in the ancient floorboards. At least it lets some of the heat from the fire up in the colder months. ::The doors leading into the inn's rooms cannot be seen through, thankfully. Even so, they might as well be curtains for all they block the sound from behind them. They line the corridor, all the way to the grimy window at the end of the hall. Creaking, groaning steps lead down from here into the Hangman's Noose tavern. ---- Eventually, everyone ends up in the inn, Lucius standing by his door to motion them in. Once in he shuts the door and locks it. "Alright, the old Silveredge Company head quarters are out front of here. We should go investigate... now, in my opinion, and post some sentries to make sure nobody's creeping around watching. That alright with you?" He asks Norran, not using title - probably wise in this place. "They haven't been around for some time? The place has probably been picked clean a long while ago if they didn't have people there guarding it," Wolfsbane states in a hushed voice. The walls are rather thin, after all. "I trusht in your judgement. I'm just an exshtra shword and bow ash far ash I'm consherned. He he," answers the grinning swordsman, for some reason keeping with his slurs. It's quite possible he really /is/ drunk, but he seems to deal with it remarkably well for now. Blackfox separated from Lucius once they were in the room and now stands off to one side, listening for the moment. Reese picks a spot near the window, careful not to cross in front of it. Back against the wall, she folds an arm across her chest and a hand beneath her chin, observing with eyes and ears but not commenting. "No more dallying then. You might be right, Vhramis, but we need to look anyways. Gotta start somewhere. Be ready to be ambushed, though. Y'never know what's gonna go on here, even with the Ravensguard patrolling the street. Night's a guardsman's worst enemy. People question us? Make some good stuff up. We're mercs, and we do look the part." That stated Lucius looks towards the door, tapping his mail cuirass. He tightens his ruck considerably so that it doesn't shift around over his armoured figure, and unslings his crusader shield. "Thanks." He adds belatedly to Norran, eyeing the shield. "We better get moving. We've dallied a bit too long already. Blackfox, slap me in the face. It'll explain why I'm in and out so quick without me looking like I finished in my trousers before the show startd." He grins. "I can hit him if you want," Vhramis offers Blackfox, glancing to her and lifting an eyebrow. He doesn't wait for an answer, moving back out into the hallway to wander back down the stairs. "No troublesh. And if they knew you, they wouldn't find it very shurprishing at all. Hehehehe," replies the swordsmanship followed by somewhat incessant giggling, folding his arms across his chest as he makes to watch the show. Blackfox looks as if she is about to accept Vhramis' offer when he leaves far too quickly, looking up at Lucius with that same uncomfortable gaze. But then she shrugs, hauls back and slaps him as requested, the diminutive huntress putting her all into the open handed blow. After all, she had to leave some kind of a mark. Caprice pays no mind to the byplay, turning to slide open the window and exit just as silently as she arrived. Vaulting out the window, she leaps with surprising, cat-like ease from the lip of the sill to the roof, black cloak swirling like wings in her wake. Lucius Nepos blinks as his head snaps to the side with the really, really strong slap, a hand mark making itself evident on his cheek just as soon as he's seeing stars. He shakes it off once. Then, again. "Light woman, you should be teaching Shining Hand to the Churchies." He kinda ambles off, stumbling before regaining his balance and heading downstairs. The crossbowman stares daggers at Caprice's showy exit, shaking his fist. "A washte! Not earned at all, that'sh no shkill! I'll show you shkill!" drunkenly declares the man, immediately rushing to follow her outside. It seems luck is not on his side, however, tripping over the edge of a rug and tumbling haphazardly out of the window with an annoyed grunt. Barely managing to save himself by grasping on to the window sill, drunken flailing unfortunately causes him to lose his grip and tumble to the alley bellow. Fortunately (?) for him, his fall is broken by a conveniently placed pile of refuse from the Noose's kitchens. "Two...two outter three! It'sh wash a fluke!" calls a voice from the alley. "That was Norran, aye?" Blackfox asks softly as the man tumbles out the window, the Wildlander just totally stymied by the nights events so far. The group heads out into Gate Town, unsure of what they'll find... ---- Return to Season 7 (2008) Category:Logs